Romeo in a Leather Jacket
by Ramee
Summary: I never meant to fall in love with Rachel Berry. I didn't. But she was there, and she always wears these sad excuses for skirts, and I just couldn't help it. It wasn't my fault, okay? Puck/Rachel, kind of angsty. T for language.
1. Monday

Chapter One

_Monday_

I never meant to fall in love with Rachel Berry. I didn't. But she was there, and she always wears these sad excuses for skirts, and I just couldn't help it. It wasn't my fault, okay?

I was just so pissed all the time about Quinn and the baby that she refused to admit was mine. God, Finn was a fucking idiot, and Quinn wanted him to be a father? Hell no. I would take care of that baby. I'm not a deadbeat.

Anyway, I was just so mad, and we had to do this ballad assignment in Glee and pick names out of a hat, and it just figured I'd pick Berry. I wasn't joking when I said she made me want to light myself on fire, and I'd be lying if I told you I didn't hide all the lighters and matches and shit at my house from myself when I got home that day.

After that was done, I got a text from Rachel. I wondered how the hell she got my number, but she does creepy shit like that.

_Noah, we need to rehearse our ballad. I've got a few ideas I'd like to run by you. Meet me in the auditorium at 5?_

I rolled my eyes. First of all, who the fuck wanted to go back to school after they already left for the day. That was insane. And I did not want to spend any more time with Man-Hands Berry than what was totally and completely necessary. Even if she was Jewish.

But I went along with it, because I knew that for the next week, she'd be bugging me like crazy about this stupid assignment.

_Sure_

That one word I typed out to her and hit sent without really thinking changed a lot. Because I met her in the auditorium, and things got crazy.

I actually felt an emotion other than joy at other peoples' pain or pure rage at Quinn and Frankenteen. It wasn't like, _love _or anything fruity and gay like that, but it was … I don't know. I thought she was cute.

_Cute_. Jesus, I wasn't the kind of person who thought girls were _cute_. There was either fine as hell or fugly. Middle ground didn't exist. And right then, in that moment, Rachel Berry was fine as hell.

"Noah," she said when I walked in. I felt an overwhelming urge to kick her ass for calling me _Noah_, but she was a chick and the Puckzilla didn't roll that way. "I've got to be honest, I've been having a lot of trouble finding a ballad that describes my emotions toward you. This is most likely because I don't really understand what my emotions toward you are. I'm sure you can relate."

I rolled my eyes. This bitch was crazy. "Alright, Berry, here's the deal." I got up on stage and stood a few feet away from her, far enough so that I didn't catch crazy girl disease and close enough so that she didn't want to come closer. "If this _partnership _or whatever the hell you wanna call it is gonna work, you have to get something straight. You are _insane_."

She had the decency to act offended, but we both knew I had a point. "I'm offended by that accusation, Noah."

"But it's true."

"Hardly."

"Anyway, you're bat-shit crazy. And unless there's a song that says 'Get this chick away from me, she's fucking insane,' I have no idea what to sing to you, either."

She paused for a moment. "Well, there are a few, actually. Obviously they don't express the emotion in such crude terms as you chose to, but "Don't Stand So Close to Me" by the Police comes to mind."

"Sounds perfect."

She sighed. "Noah, here's what I was thinking." She was pacing now, which was annoying as hell. "Neither of us have any legitimate or _appropriate _emotions toward each other, so finding a ballad to express our inner feelings will be difficult. So, I propose we sing songs that express how we're feeling about life in general. Mine would of course be …"

I tuned her out then, mostly because I didn't give a shit what she wanted to sing about. And unless there was some song out there about a getting a girl pregnant and then watching her pretend the baby was your best friend's, I doubt I would find anything.

"Alright, please, just stop talking," I said when I thought I heard her mention something about costumes. No way in hell was that happening. "I seriously doubt there are any ballads or whatever out there about what I'm feeling right now, so just tell me what to sing and I'll sing it."

I seriously hoped that would be the end of it and I could just go home and have some dip, but she had other plans.

"Noah, despite your obnoxious nature and crude comments, you are a living, breathing human being with emotions, no matter how much you may choose to deny it."

I roll my eyes. "What's your point, Berry?"

"My _point _is that right now something is on your mind. Something is going on in your life, some emotion that you need to express. Am I wrong?"

It wasn't a question, really, because she was Rachel Berry and she was never wrong. But it felt like she was fucking reading my mind. Did she know about Quinn's baby being mine? Or could she tell that he that she was freaking adorable right now, ignoring the fact that she was being a total pain in my ass?

_Adorable_. Puckasaurus just described something as _adorable_. I should've known then and there that I was fucking whipped.

I sighed. It was obvious at this point that Berry wasn't going to get off my ass about this emotions shit, so I just went with it.

"Alright, fine. What did you have in mind?"

She beamed an annoyingly charming grin. "Well, I've decided to settle on Don Henley's hugely emotional ballad 'The Heart of the Matter.' But this isn't about me. What are you feeling right now, Noah?"

_Well, Rachel, I'm feeling that there is nothing more I want to do right now than to kiss you like I've never kissed anyone before_.

Wait a damn minute. Did I seriously just think that? Shit, I could've thought something manly like _I wanna fuck your brains out _or _I wanna make you scream my name, sexy_. But no. I wanted to kiss her and make her feel special.

But no fucking way was I telling her that.

"I'm feeling like I want to get out of here before your crazy rubs off on me," I said. She didn't seem offended at all, like people called her crazy every day. Which wouldn't be surprising.

"_Noah_."

"_Berry_," I said mockingly.

She sat down on the piano bench behind me and I turned around leaning against the instrument. She huffed before she spoke again. "Noah, if this partnership is going to be successful, you simply must be honest with me."

"I am being honest with you." No, I wasn't.

"Fine. Other than that, what are you feeling? And it has to be deeper, more emotional. Close your eyes and look into your inner soul and find that burning emotion you want nothing more than to let out."

I almost laughed. This chick was insane, but she knew what she was talking about. But no way was I telling her what I was actually feeling, which was anger, boredom, and if I have to say it … affection. Fuck no was I ready to sing her a love song or whatever whipped pricks did, that came much after this night.

She must have sensed the fact that I wasn't telling her shit that night, so she stood up with a scoff. Who the hell scoffs, anyway? When did I join the cast of the Rachel Berry soap opera?

"Fine, Noah. Obviously you're going to stay reserved about your feelings. So think about it, about what emotion you'd like to convey, and we'll talk in the morning about song selection. Sound good?"

I was in no position to argue with her, because I'd long since noticed the length of her skirt that seemed more similar in size to a belt, and I was getting kind of distracted. So I just nodded and she left.

When I got home that night, I was fucking confused. Confused about feeling a positive emotion toward Rachel fucking Berry. Rachel I'm-probably-hiding-under-your-bed-and-stealing-your-socks-to-use-as-puppets-because-I'm-cracked Berry. And not only that, I wanted to feel _more _of that positive emotion, whatever it was. But I wasn't about to sing about that in front of people, so I decided that I better get cracking on this emotion shit because if I didn't have any idea in the morning, Berry would beat me with a baseball bat she probably stole from someone's house.

So I spent some time on Google, trying to find a song that said "I'm fucking pissed, so don't mess with me or I'll bust your face in." I finally found something that would work and went to bed because I didn't want to be awake and thinking about Rachel Berry.


	2. Tuesday

Chapter 2

_Tuesday_

So I bet you're wondering where the hell I'm going with this story. To be totally honest, neither do I. Oh yeah, Rachel Berry. My heart and soul. But we're not at that point in the story yet.

Damn, I'm whipped. I just described someone as _my heart and soul_. You know, it's true, but I don't need to say that.

Anyway, so the next morning I tried to avoid Berry. By third period, not walking by her locker was impossible, so I just went for it and hoped she wouldn't see me.

"Noah!" I heard just as I thought I was in the clear. _Damn it_, I thought. I turned around and approached her locker.

"What do you want?" I said a little bitterly. I had just realized how amazing she looked today and it pissed me off.

"Did you decide on the emotion you'd like to express?" she asked with a creepy glint in her eye. She was _way _too excited about this project.

"Yeah," I said, looking around to make sure no one saw me talking to her. I had a rep to protect. "And I already picked a song, so you can get off my ass now."

I began to walk away, hoping she'd drop it, but I should have known better.

"_Noah_," she said in a voice that made me so afraid she'd kill me if I didn't turn around, so I sauntered back over to her locker and glared at her. "I'd like to listen to your song. Meet me in the choir room after school?"

I sighed. I knew that Rachel was absolutely nuts, so getting her off my back for a damn project was going to me impossible. I figured I could handle a week with her.

"Fine," I said. Then I squared my shoulders and walked away with the little dignity I had left.

Surprisingly, I arrived at the choir room before Berry did. So I sat down at the piano and started goofing off, playing random songs that I wish I didn't know how to play, and before I knew it, I was giving a whole damn performance to no one.

_A hundred days have made me older_

_Since the last time that I saw your pretty face_

_A thousand lies have made me colder_

_And I don't think I can look at this the same_

_But all the miles that separate_

_Disappear now when I'm dreaming of your face_

_I'm here without you baby_

_But you're still on my lonely mind_

_I think about you baby_

_And I dream about you all the time_

_I'm here without you baby_

_But you're still with me in my dreams_

_And tonight, it's only you and me_

_The miles just keep rolling_

_As the people leave their way to say hello_

_I've heard this life is overrated_

_But I hope that it gets better as we go_

_I'm here without you baby_

_But you're still on my lonely mind_

_I think about you baby_

_And I dream about you all the time_

_I'm hear without you baby_

_But you're still with me in my dreams_

_And tonight girl, it's only you and me_

_Everything I know and anywhere I go_

_It gets hard but it won't take away my love_

_And when the last one falls, when it's all said and done_

_It gets hard but it won't take away my love_

_I'm here without you baby_

_But you're still on my lonely mind_

_I think about you baby_

_And I dream about you all the time_

_I'm here without you baby_

_But you're still with me in my dreams_

_And tonight girl, it's only you and me_

I heard clapping and was surprised to find Rachel sitting in the front row of chairs. I roll my eyes and blush a little. She wasn't supposed to see that.

"How long have you been sitting there?" I asked, embarrassed.

She flashed me her award-winning smile. "Long enough to hear you _nail _that song." She waltzed toward the front of the piano and leaned against it, putting her face in her hands. "Is that your ballad?"

"No," I said. I stand up. "I'm gonna do 'Black and Bruised' by Eighteen Visions."

"I've never heard it."

"You wouldn't."

She nodded slowly. "You want to sing it for me?"

_No_, I thought. _No, I don't_. But I say "Fine" because she's so damn pretty. She returns to her seat and I pull up the instrumental version of "Eighteen Visions" on my iPod, letting it blare through the stereo. I see Rachel jump at the hostile music.

_My days are numbered down on my life_

_I know, I can't quite make it_

_You've got your crown, so quit your fucking around_

"Noah," she said, trying to get me to stop singing. I ignored her.

_Well I've broken you, you've broken me_

_Now I'm alone_

_Well I've broken you, you've broken me_

_Now I'm alone_

_Well I've broken you, you've broken me_

"Noah. Stop."

_You let the killer kill me tonight_

_Wounded, I'm down on my knees_

_You hang 'round me like a fucking disease_

_Well I've broken you, you've broken me_

"Noah!"

I groaned and paused the song. "What?"

"I don't think you understood what I wanted you to do."

"Yes, I did," I said. "You wanted me to find a song that expresses how I feel. And how I feel is fucking angry."

She stood and walked on to the stage. "And why do you feel this way?"

I looked away, trying to avoid eye contact. I totally did _not _want to tell her that. Well, I did, but Quinn didn't want me to and I had to respect my baby mama's wishes. Even if those wishes are pretending she's not my baby mama.

She seemed to get that I didn't want to talk about it, so she moved on in her lecture. "I'm just saying that maybe there's another emotion inside you that you could express in a much … _gentler _way."

"So you're saying I can't be mad?"

"No, of course that's not what I'm saying. You have no control over your emotions, Noah," she said. "But I don't think this is the proper song for the assignment. I don't believe it constitutes a ballad. Do you understand?"

I sighed. "I guess so."

"Great. Now for my song choice. Would you like to hear 'The Heart of the Matter'? Clearly, I'll be singing about Finn, but I think you'll appreciate the sub-messages of the song. Take a seat, Noah."

I roll my eyes and sit down in the same seat she was in before. This bitch was fucking crazy.

_I got a call today that I didn't wanna hear_

_But I knew that it would come_

_An old true friend of ours was talking on the phone_

_She said you found someone_

_And I thought of all the bad luck_

_The struggles we went through_

_How I lost me and you lost you_

_What are these voices_

_Outside love's open door_

_Make us throw off our contentment_

_And beg for something more?_

_I'm learning to live without you now_

_But I miss you sometimes_

_The more I know, the less I understand_

_All the things I thought I knew_

_I'm learning again_

_I've been trying to get down to the heart of the matter_

_But my will gets week_

_And my thoughts seem to scatter but I think it's about_

_Forgiveness_

_Forgiveness_

_Even if, even if, you don't love me anymore_

_All these times are so uncertain_

_There's a yearning undefined_

_And people filled with rage_

_We all need a little tenderness_

_How can love survive_

_In such a faceless age?_

_And the trust and self-assurance that can lead to happiness_

_They're the very things we kill I guess_

_Oh, pride and composition cannot fill these empty arms_

_And the work I put between us_

_You know it doesn't keep me warm_

_I'm learning to live without you now_

_But I miss you, baby_

_The more I know_

_The less I understand_

_All the things I thought I'd figured out_

_I have to learn again_

_I've been trying to get down to the heart of the matter_

_But everything changes _

_And my friends seem to scatter but I think it's about_

_Forgiveness_

_Forgiveness_

_Even if, even if you don't love me anymore_

_There are people in your life who've come and gone  
They've let you down, you know they hurt your pride_

_You better put all behind you, baby_

_'Cause life goes on_

_If you keep carrying that anger_

_It'll eat you up inside, baby_

_I've been trying to get down to the heart of the matter_

_But will gets weak_

_And my thoughts seem to scatter but I think it's about_

_Forgiveness_

_Forgiveness_

_Even if, even if you don't love me_

_I've been trying to get down to the heart of the matter_

_Because the flesh will get weak_

_And the ashes will scatter so I'm thinking about_

_Forgiveness_

_Forgiveness_

_Even if, even if you don't love me_

_Forgiveness_

_Forgiveness_

_Forgiveness_

_Forgiveness_

_Forgiveness_

_Even if you don't love me anymore_

_Forgiveness_

_Forgiveness_

I really should've known, watching her sing that song, that I was in love with her. Looking back on it now as I tell this story, I was already crazy about her at this point. I just didn't know it yet. Or I did, or I was in some serious denial about it.

Either way, I was confused about my emotions as I watched her perform. And more than that, I was confused about her emotions. What was she trying to say? Who was she forgiving? She mentioned the song was about Finn, but I couldn't think of anything particularly bad Finn had done to her that he needed forgiveness for. Except for not falling in love with her, but I didn't really think Rachel blamed him for that.

"So?" she said. She was panting, but that song didn't have the vocal acrobatics the one she usually sang did, so it was probably just for dramatic effect.

"I'm confused," I said, because I was.

To my surprise, she smiled. I thought she'd give me a speech about exactly what her song meant, a speech that I'd only half-listen to, but she seemed genuinely pleased that I had no idea what the hell she was trying to tell me.

"Exactly," she said. She walked over to me and sat down in the chair beside me. I instinctively inched my chair a few inches away, but she didn't seem to notice. "The whole purpose of my ballad was to leave the listeners wondering. Not knowing exactly what I meant by the lyrics. Only one person in the Glee Club will truly understand what I meant by the song."

She didn't have to say it, but I knew that one person was Finn. Which made me angry for two reasons. One, I was beginning to fall in love with her, so I didn't want her singing some stupid lost love song to another guy. And two, if she could sing some hidden-meaning shit to Finn, why couldn't I sing one to Quinn? Quinn's the only one who'd get what I meant by "Black and Bruised."

"Hold up," I said, standing up and pacing toward the piano. "That's exactly what my song did! No one's gonna understand except for one person! So why can't I sing it?"

"Because, Noah, I don't believe that's how you really feel."

"Don't fucking pretend you know how I feel!"

I was angry now, but I wasn't angry at Rachel. I was angry at Quinn for taking my kid, the kid I'd jump in front of a bullet for, away from me. I was angry at Finn for being the one Quinn chose. I was angry at the world for giving me this shit to deal with. But I looked at Rachel's sweet, innocent face, and I knew that I could never be angry at her.

"Noah," she said calmly. I really had to hand it to her. I sang her a song that was pure rage, and she didn't let it phase her and stepped out and gave an amazing performance—possibly the best performance I'd ever seen her give. And now I was flipping out on her, and she was somehow managing to melt my anger with her soothing voice. But I couldn't let her know that. "Something is obviously going on in your life right now. That's very clear. And I totally understand that you don't want to talk to me about it, but you need to talk to someone."

_If you keep carrying that anger, it'll eat you up inside baby_. I remember the words to her song and seriously consider her statement. But then I realize talking someone about it meant having to tell someone, and though Quinn was the reason I was such a mess, I had to respect her wishes. And talking to someone would also make me seem like a pussy, so I pushed the thought aside.

"And I honestly don't believe that's the song you want to sing. By all means, if you want to sing that song, do it. I'm not going to stop you. I just don't think that's the song you really want to sing, Noah."

I just stared at her. Everything she had said to me in these past two days, every little word, was one hundred and ten percent true. It was like she was inside my head, which was fucking creepy. But in some weird way, it was kind of comforting.

"I'm not going to pressure you, Noah. Though my success in this assignment partially depends on you, Mr. Schuester meant this as a personal growth project. And I can't tell you to feel a certain way. So go ahead and sing whatever song you'd like. I'm willing to listen. And if you change your mind about talking to someone, you know where to find me."

Then she picked up her bag and left.

I did a lot of thinking that night. More thinking than someone of my brain capacity should, I imagine. I thought about Quinn and all the obvious things that were bothering me about her. I thought about Finn and how pissed I was at him, although he was the one that actually had a reason to be pissed at me. He didn't do anything wrong. I thought about Rachel and how confused I was about her, how I felt _something _while she was singing earlier, how much I regretted yelling at her, how right she was with everything she said.

But mostly, I thought about me. It wasn't something I ever wanted to do and something I vowed to never do again, but I actually sat in my room, mindlessly strumming on my guitar, and thinking about my feelings. I figured that made me the biggest queer on the planet, but whenever I tried to think about something awesome like beer or boobs, my stupid brain kept bringing me back to those damn feelings.

I sat there for hours. I sat there, my main priority being figuring out what song I was going to sing for this damn assignment. I knew Rachel said that she didn't care what I did because it was about me (something I never thought I'd here coming out of her mouth, by the way. But that girl has a way of surprising me.), but I knew that she'd kill me if I messed it up.

Finally, somewhere in the middle of the night, it hit me.

I knew what I was going to do. And more importantly, I knew exactly how I felt.

**A/N:** I love writing Puck's POV so much. Reviews?


	3. Wednesday

**A/N: **I haven't updated this in so long I'm a terrible person.

I woke up in the morning with a massive headache. This wasn't rare, but usually it was a hangover, and today it was because I wasn't used to all that thinking. But I didn't care about the blinding pain behind my eyes. I was too happy. I finally figured it out.

Or so I thought. But more on that later.

Anyway, I went to school early that morning, which is something I'd never done before. My mom was really confused when I said goodbye to her a full half hour before I usually do. But I knew Rachel Berry was the kind of chick that would show up to school early just for the hell of it, so I figured I'd get a few moments alone with her.

I sent Rachel a text as I went out to my truck (again, something I wouldn't have expected of myself. But Berry has a way of making dudes do crazy shit.) that said _Meet me in the choir room in 10 minutes._

She replied with a yes all too quickly, which made me think that she had just been sitting somewhere staring at her phone, waiting for someone to interact with her. That wouldn't be totally surprising.

When I walked into the choir room, she was seated in a chair in the back, absentmindedly playing with a strand of her hair. I assumed she'd be there before me, but I'd expected her to be singing or dancing or crying or something _Rachel_ish.

"Hey," I said, and she looked up and shot me _that _smile. A jolt of electricity passed through my stomach, but I ignored it, pretending it was gas or something.

I was in serious denial at this point.

"Good morning, Noah," she said. I grunted in response. "Have you given any thought to what I said yesterday afternoon?"

_Yeah, it's been all I've been thinking about_. "A little," I said.

She nodded, waiting.

"I picked a song."

"Fantastic. May I hear it?"

"I guess."

I plugged my iPod into the stereo as she took a seat in the front row. I had to admit—I was nervous as hell. I was about to pour my heart and soul out to Rachel Berry, who I didn't give a shit about at this point. Well, I did, but I wasn't ready to admit that to myself.

But this wasn't about Rachel. This wasn't even about me. This was about Quinn Fabray and the little baby girl that was growing inside of her.

_When you try your best but you don't succeed_

_When you get what you want but not what you need_

_When you feel so tired but you can't sleep_

_Stuck in reverse_

_And the tears come streaming down your face_

_When you lose something you can't replace_

_When you love someone but it goes to waste_

_Could it be worse?_

_Lights will guide you home_

_And ignite your bones_

_And I will try to fix you_

_And high up above or down below_

_When you're too in love to let it go_

_But if you ever try you'll never know_

_Just what you're worth_

_Lights will guide you home_

_And ignite your bones_

_And I will try to fix you_

_Tears stream down your face_

_When you lose something you cannot replace_

_Tears stream down your face_

_And I_

_Tears stream down your down your face_

_I promise you I will learn from my mistakes_

_Tears stream down your face_

_And I_

_Lights will guide you home_

_And ignite your bones_

_And I will try to fix you_

I was crying. That was the first time I registered when I broke out of my music state of mind. On top of that, I was pretty pissed about the fact that I was crying like an idiot in front of Rachel Berry. Not that I cared about her opinion of me, but still.

"Noah," she whispered. Her hand was on my shoulder, and I shrugged it off instinctively, but she put it right back. I didn't try to move it the second time. "That was beautiful." she said.

I honestly didn't know whether I was singing about Quinn or the baby. It didn't really matter. All that mattered at that moment was getting the hell out of there, because crying in public was not a Puckerman thing to do.

"I have to go," I mumbled, and my voice came out shaky. I hated how much of an idiot I sounded like.

"Noah." She clasped her tiny hand around my wrist, and as much as I hated to admit it, I kind of liked the sensation of her … touching me. But I ignored it and used my free hand to pry her fingers from her wrist. I grabbed my shit and booked it.

It was still a good twenty minutes before school was about to start, so I bolted. I couldn't go home, because my mom and sister were there and there was no way my mom would let me skip school. And I couldn't let them see that I was crying. But I couldn't go to school, because I wasn't about to walk around school all day with red, puffy eyes. I had a rep to protect.

So I drove all day. I'll admit, there was a lot of crying during that drive, but I didn't allow myself to think about why. My phone went off about a million times between the time I left and the time school started, and then after school ended, but I didn't check it. I knew it was Rachel, though, because she's the only one who wouldn't text me during school.

I listened to my radio for the first ten-ish minutes of my drive, but then a song came on that made me feel worse, so I pulled what I assumed was an important cord out of my stereo. I doubted it would ever work again, but I didn't really give a shit.

I got home that night around seven-thirty, and the last person I wanted to see in that moment was sitting at my kitchen table, drinking tea with my mom. Rachel _fucking _Berry.

I wiped any wetness that may still have been on my face off on the back of my hand, because no way was I letting my mom see me cry. The damage had already been done with Rachel, but still.

"What are you doing here?" I asked Rachel, throwing my car keys down on the counter. I kissed my mom's temple because she's my mom and although she's batshit crazy, you gotta love her.

"Noah, that's no way to greet a friend," my mom said.

"She's not my friend," I responded immediately, and Rachel's face fell. That broke my heart a little, but I ignored the sinking feeling in my chest.

"_Noah_," my mom said.

"What are you doing here?" I repeated. Berry opened her mouth to respond, but my mom cut her off.

"Rachel stopped by to see if you were home yet. She said you were acting odd today at school, and she wanted to make sure you were all right."

Now, Rachel knew full well that I was not at school today. But I thought it was nice how she covered for me.

"I'm fine," I said gruffly, which could not be further from the truth.

"Noah, are you sure? You have been acting strange lately," my mom said. I noticed that Berry hadn't said a word throughout this entire conversation, and if you asked me, that was what was fucking strange.

"I said I'm _fine_," I said again.

"Noah, why don't you and Rachel talk in your room?" my mom suggested. This was the first time my mom ever suggested that a girl and I went into my room, but if she thought that it was the first time it ever happened, she was in for a surprise. The ladies were no strangers to the Puckerman bedroom.

Maybe that's why one of those ladies has a Puckerman growing inside of her.

I paused for a moment, waiting to see if my mom was actually serious. She was, so I groaned and said "Whatever" before leading Rachel Berry to my room.

Holy shit, I was _leading Rachel Berry to my room_.

Looking back on it now, this was a significant moment in our relationship. The first time Rachel had ever been in my room. It sure as hell wasn't the last, I'll tell you that much. Rachel Berry knows her way around that bedroom.

I closed the door behind her, because I didn't want my mom or sister to overhear the conversation Berry was surely about to force out of me. This was not for their ears.

"Alright, what?" I said harshly. She flinched a little, and I rolled my eyes.

"Noah, I think you should reconsider my offer to talk to someone," she said. She sat down on my bed for the first of many times, and I leaned against the wall.

"What, like a freaking shrink? Hell no."

"No, Noah, not a _shrink_. Just … someone. Someone you can trust," she said. I noticed what she was wearing for the first time that day—a skirt that was more like a belt and a cute little black v-neck t-shirt. She looked, well, _beautiful_.

Oh dear God. The things that girl gets me to say.

"What, like you?" I said, scoffing a little bit. I never thought I was the kind of dude that _scoffed_, but Berry brought that out in me.

"If you think you can trust me, I'm more than willing to listen."

I was quiet for a really long time. I started thinking—an act that wasn't good for someone in my current condition—and I'm pretty sure I teared up a little bit more. God, didn't I cry enough that day? I already felt like I had to watch porn or lift weights or something just to regain a little bit of my manliness.

The next thing I knew, she was standing beside me, stroking my arm. She placed one of her hands on my side, running it up and down the length of my torso, and it felt really nice.

"_Noah_," she whispered. She leaned her face against my shoulder and I'm pretty sure she kissed it or something, which at the time was repulsive but now I think it was pretty adorable. "Please talk to me."

I didn't want to speak, honestly. I knew if I opened my mouth my voice would be all cry-ish, so I just shook my head. "Later," I managed to squeak out. She nodded.

"Okay." She lifted her hand away from my side—which kind of pissed me off—and pulled me over to my bed. "Sit," she said.

That was the first of many times I took an order from Rachel Berry in my own bedroom.

She went over to my stereo and turned on some slow shit, but it was kind of soothing. She had the volume down real low; it was just background noise. She sat beside me on my bed and her hand resumed its nice side-rubbing.

"I'm being such a pussy," I said when my voice was more reliable. "This is the least badass thing I've ever done, just so you know."

"I happen to think letting yourself cry every once in a while is _very_ badass," she said, smiling. I laughed a little because that was the first time I ever heard Rachel Berry curse, and it was pretty cute.

"That's stupid," I said, but I was smiling.

"I'm worried about you, Noah," she whispered into my shoulder. Her lips were resting right at the edge of my sleeve, and every gut instinct in my body was telling me to push her off and run but … I kind of _liked _it.

I rolled my eyes. "Don't waste your time worrying about me."

"But I am worried about you. That performance you gave today was absolutely beautiful. But I could tell that something was killing you inside as you sang."

God, she really is always right, isn't she? But I really didn't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing that.

"Nothing's kill—"

"_Noah_."

I sighed. To this day, when she uses that voice with me, I'm a goner. Whatever she wants is hers. And right then, what she wanted was some answers.

And I gave them to her. I sat there and told her everything, and she didn't say a damn word throughout the entire thing. She sat there and listened as I told her about the night I slept with Quinn, how she found out she was pregnant and made me swear to never tell anyone it was mine, how every time I saw her walking down the hall with Finn I felt like someone was repeatedly kicking me in the stomach.

"I'm sorry that that happened to you, Noah," she said when I was finished. "That's terrible."

"'S'not your fault," I said quietly. I peeked at my clock. It was eleven-thirty already. I had been talking to Rachel for four fucking hours.

She seemed to notice the time, too, so she got up and started scrambling around for no reason the way that only Rachel Berry does. "I'd better go," she said. "My dads must be worried sick."

"Stay," I whispered. I said it so quietly that she had to ask me to repeat myself, and I did.

"It's a school night, Noah."

I honestly didn't see how that had anything to do with anything.

"Stay," I said for a third time. She sighed.

"Fine."

I don't even know why I asked her to stay. Maybe it was because it was eleven-thirty and she didn't have a car and there was _no way _I was letting her walk home by herself, and I really didn't feel like driving her. Maybe it was because she was so warm and I kind of liked having her around. Maybe it was because I was really enjoying talking to her, because when she wasn't in crazy-mode, she was actually kind of cool. Maybe it was because I was falling in love with her. Even though I was trying as hard as a possibly could to resist it.

"I'll sleep on the couch," she said, and I rolled my eyes.

"Bullshit. You're sleeping in here."

She blushed a little, and I laughed out loud at how much of a prude she was. "_Noah_," she said sternly. "I hardly think that's appropriate."

"Relax," I said. "I'll sleep on the couch." Now, I really didn't want to sleep on the couch, but I figured that was my only chance of getting her to stay.

"No," she said quietly. "Stay here."

My eyes kind of popped out of my head and my mouth dropped open, because Rachel Berry just asked me to sleep in the same bed as her. If someone had told me that three days ago, I would have either vomited or punched them in the face.

"Okay," I said, because I didn't want her to know the dirty, dirty things that were running through my mind in that moment. I was trying _really _hard to keep my mind of fucking her brains out and making her scream my name. Those weren't thoughts I should have been having.

I reached into my dresser and pulled out an old t-shirt, tossing it at her. "Here," I said quietly.

She made her way to the bathroom, and I quickly pulled my shirt and jeans off. Usually the boxers would come off to, but I didn't think that would fly with Rachel. And if there was nothing between my dick and her body but one of my old t-shirts, no way in hell was I going to be able to control myself. It was already hard enough.

No pun intended.

She came out of the bathroom and into my room and I almost pounced on her right then and there.. It was just so, _so _hot. She was like a fucking midget, so the shirt was practically a dress on her. From what I could tell, all she was wearing under that was her underwear, and that shit was hot. I don't know how she expected me to get through that night.

She walked past me and leaned down to pull back the blankets on my bed, and I got a pretty good look at her ass under that shirt. It was confirmed that she was wearing only underwear, but it was actually a thong.

Holy shit, Rachel Berry was wearing a _thong._

She crawled into the bed and pulled the blankets up around her chin. I smiled.

"Goodnight, Noah," she said.

"'Night, Berry." I reached over and turned off my lamp, and I was suddenly aware of the amount of space between us. She seemed to realize it at the same time, so she wiggled closer and rested her head on my bare chest. It couldn't have been that comfortable, because I have pecs of steel, but she put the top of her head under my chin, and I couldn't help looping my arms around her waist, pulling her into me. I buried my face in her hair and it smelled like vanilla, but to me it smelled more like rainbows and sunshine and fucking unicorns.

And in that moment, laying with my arms wrapped around her, there was no denying that I was falling in crazy, kissing-in-the-rain, holding-hands-in-the-hallway, staying-up-thinking-about-you, missing-you-like-crazy love with Rachel Berry.

And I fucking loved it.


End file.
